For the LOLZ-Star Wars edition
by potosw
Summary: In which, the phrase "we have cookies" is born.


Empire Day. A day of glorious celebration for those citizens of the Galactic Empire. A day of triumph for one Emperor of said Empire. This day, however, this Emperor was not feeling very happy. He could not explain why he was feeling down. This was the anniversary of his greatest triumph. He had gained a young, powerful apprentice and had destroyed the Jedi.

Said apprentice stood none too far away. The young Dark Side Follower certainly didn't appear too happy as he looked out at the celebrating crowds below himself and his master. Of course, the emperor mused, he won't be happy. Today marks the anniversary he lost that woman of his. Panda Bear, Padamalay, or whatever her name had been. Seducing the apprentice certainly hadn't been hard. All he had to do was promise to keep Panda Bear alive. Well, the promise had fallen through, of course, because the woman had died. A pity.

The Emperor sighed. Musing on his apprentice's misfortunes had been fun, but he was feeling down again. Looking at the people celebrating below, he noticed a local baker handing out something. He leaned forward, leaning over the railing of the balcony he stood upon.

The apprentice simply shifted on his feet. He could not understand what could possibly be soooo important that it would warrant Palpatine leaning over a railing, looking like an utter fool to whoever could see him. Namely the apprentice. If he were still capable, he would have sighed.

He watched as his Master called something to his hand by using the Force. It was a cookie. A cookie, for Force's sake. That was what he was so passionate about? the apprentice thought.

Emperor Palpatine looked at the cookie and turned it over in his hand a few times. It was cooked through, but perhaps a bit too much. The chocolate that was imbedded into it looked nice, but there were too few chips in relation to the entire cookie. Still, it was free. Thinking that it might bring him some sort of happiness (he had read chocolate was good for that), he took a large bite of it.

The apprentice watched as the Master's face changed from one of happy anticipation to disgust. To be truthful with himself, he was starting to believe his Master. Perhaps chocolate could bring happiness. He wasn't entirely sure. He had never had any. Anytime he had bought said good for his wife, she had eaten it before he even had the chance to so much as touch the stuff. Still, watching Palpatine's face turn a sickly shade of green brought him some semblance of happiness. That was, until his Master spat the munched up cookie remains onto his just-polished boots.

The now unhappily green-faced Emperor looked up at his friend. He wanted to tell him something, stepping a bit closer to the taller man. As he opened his mouth to explain how bad cookies are evil and must be destroyed-particularly the baker that made them-he spewed the rich contents of his stomach all over said friend. He then passed out, for the smell was quite rancid. He didn't feel his head hit the ground as his apprentice was too busy cleaning Mon Calamari off of himself.

Empire Day in the Imperial Palace was a grand site. Palpatine was amongst the crowds of people. He spoke to some as if he cared and paid attention to those who might slip up and make it known public wise that they supported the Rebels.

Palpatine smiled when he thought of where his dark, moody apprentice was. He had had to punish the boy for allowing him to hit his head. That simply was not right! He rubbed the small bruise on his head and pouted. Still, the thought of said apprentice in the kitchens was enough to please said Emperor.

"Lord Vader!" a particularly fat woman with a heavy German accent shouted. "was machen Sie? das ist schlect. geht weg. ich werde die-"

The Sith Lord used the Force to send the woman flying to the other side of the kitchen. Her head hit the wall and she was out for the count. Now was not the time to disturb the moody Sith Lord. He had already killed half of the cooking staff, another quarter had run off upon seeing him in their kitchen, and the final quarter stayed out to party. The fat German had been the only one brave enough to stay with one particularly angry Sith Lord.

It wasn't that Vader hated cooking. He had done it enough during the Clone Wars whenever he got the chance. And especially so when he visited Padme. She could not cook to save her life.

No, what Darth Vader hated was that this was punishment for letting Palpatine get a bruise after he had spilled his guts all over his person. His Master had wanted him to make a cookie that would not make him sick. That wouldn't have been too bad, had he known how to bake.

The Sith opened the oven and pulled out a pan of cookies, using puffy, bright pink oven mitts. He put the pan on top of the stove and wiped the mitts over his equally bright pink apron to remove the excess flour.

Vader simply looked at the cookies. With a lack in being able to see color, he just shrugged and poked one. Everything seemed to be fine, that was until it spontaneously combusted.

He just stared at the flaming cooking for a long moment before deciding that Flame Cookies would probably not make one Galactic Emperor too happy.

Tossing the pan behind him, which exploded thereafter, he started on a new batch of cookies. Perhaps the Exploding Cookie could be a new military weapon? he thought. He would have to discuss this with his Master.

After many more failed cookie escapades, which somehow ended up turning his cape bright purple and his boots neon green, one tired Sith Lord named Darth Vader had finally made the perfect cookie. A drunken man who had swiped a cookie had tasted the cookie and had stated as much. He also had proclaimed his eternal love for the Technicolor Sith and had begged for Vader to marry him so they could "share the world, stars, and universe together, forever and ever."

This man had met an untimely death when Vader denied the man. Now, the exhausted Sith Lord hadn't killed the man. No, Darth Vader had been far too disturbed to do anything outside saying no to the man. The drunken man had promptly started to sob very loudly and then proceeded to throw himself out of the kitchen window, falling to his death some 100 stories below, all the while singing "I Believe I Can Fly!"

After that show Vader had promised to himself that he would never step foot in any kitchen that his Master owned, even if it meant having to listen to him complain about it.

And speak of the Devil, said Master came walking into the kitchen. He took one look at his multicolored apprentice and sighed. "Son, purple is soooo not your color. The pink, though, that brings out the color of your...uh, suit."

Vader ignored this fashion tip from Palpatine, though he had to agree that purple did not suit him in any way whatsoever, and whatever law of physics which had done this he swore to destroy. Still, he held out the pan of cookies while thinking of the Flying Marry Me Drunk Man.

The Emperor eyed the cookie. The color of it was perfect in every sense of the word. There was a slight golden brown edge around its perimeter and its overall color was wonderful. It was also fully cooked but without being overdone. The many chocolate chips were the piece de resistance. They were

calling to the Emperor and he took a large bite of it.

After eating the cookie, eyes closed with utter delight, the older Sith Lord sighed with a very happy look on his face. He opened his eyes to find Lord Vader removing the pink apron and oven mitts, the purple cape, and his neon green boots. "You have done well, my young apprentice," the elder Sith stated. "These cookies are just what the Empire needs to drive more systems into joining

us."

Vader blinked a few times, which Palpatine couldn't see of course due to the mask, thinking that perhaps his Master was drunk as well. The party goers had headed for home, but it seemed like the old man was still going. The Corrilian Ale must really be getting to him, Vader thought mildly.

But, being the apprentice he was, Darth Vader had no choice but to answer, "Yes Master, of course."

Palpatine smiled, showing off his lovely yellow, rotten teeth which had been stained a wonderful hue of violet from some sort of drink he had consumed during his walk to the kitchens. He had a wonderful idea. And all it would take was getting Vader to make some more cookies, of course while wearing that wonderful pink apron and those gorgeous oven mitts.

Empire Day. It was over now. Long over. Weeks passed. And months passed. Time moved on. But, the Super Cookie that had been created lived on.

A young and powerful couple sat in their Palace on the little known Inner Rim planet of Poto. They had decided to placate their son by letting him watch the holovision, as they had learned it was called. Neither knew how they had ended up on this strange planet and in such a seat of power, but they had accepted it for they were able to be together.

"Mommy!" the young boy shouted, as he pointed to a commercial on the screen. "Look!"

The mother and the father both watched as the Imperial clip played before them. It proclaimed that they should join the Empire because "we have cookies."

The mother smiled slightly. Something from their old world that they could call normal would be quite nice. She turned to face the father of her child. Neither actually knew what became of her husband, and neither cared.

"What do you think, Erik?" she asked. "Cookies are part of our old world."

Erik smiled at the mother of his child, his Angel of Music. He loved this woman and would do anything to make her happy. With a smile on his face, he replied, "I say we join this Empire. What is the worst that could happen, Christine?"

Lord Vader would have sighed if he had the ability. The short commercial about cookies and the Empire was so absolutely childish that he was really starting to think that all the lightning had gone to his Master's head.

He had explained to Darth Sidious that this would never bring more systems into the Empire.

Palpatine glowered at his apprentice. "Are you sure?" he asked, in a sing-song voice. "Are you so sure?" The small phone connected to Palpatine's desk began to ring. An automated voice stated: "You have a collect call from the Poto system, where all must pay homage to music...to music."

Palpatine picked up the phone, "Go for Papa Palpatine." He listened to what the voice had to say on the other line. After saying yes multiple times, he hung up. He smiled smugly at his apprentice before stating, "The Poto system has just agreed to join the Empire." He stood up and walked so he was in front of Vader. "They joined because we have cookies. In your face!" He shouted while pointing at Vader's masked face. Palpatine then moon walked out of his office, singing Beat It.

This left a very disturbed Vader who could only wonder what humanity was

coming to. He simply shrugged and turned to head for home. He looked around the office once before he, himself, copied Palpatine in his exit. Only, the younger man danced fully to "Can't Touch This" while heading back to the kitchen to ask the fat German to make Palpatine his daily ham and cheese sandwich.


End file.
